


Dream a Little Dream

by captivated_prince (CynicalMistrust)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Capriweek - day 4 - legacy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/captivated_prince
Summary: Laurent trailed his fingers through the tall grass, closing his eyes as he tipped his face into the breeze. Sunlight warmed his hair as he walked, the smell of grass and wheat filling his lungs.He remembered these fields. Auguste used to come to them, just past the outskirts of the palace. He'd follow, sometimes, creeping through the grass when he was still small enough for it to tower over him. Wait until Auguste was lost in his thoughts or calmed from whatever injustice had driven him to seek solitude, and then he'd pounce, throwing his insignificant weight into Auguste’s legs.





	Dream a Little Dream

Laurent trailed his fingers through the tall grass, closing his eyes as he tipped his face into the breeze. Sunlight warmed his hair as he walked, the smell of grass and wheat filling his lungs. 

He remembered these fields. Auguste used to come to them, just past the outskirts of the palace. He'd follow, sometimes, creeping through the grass when he was still small enough for it to tower over him. Wait until Auguste was lost in his thoughts or calmed from whatever injustice had driven him to seek solitude, and then he'd pounce, throwing his insignificant weight into Auguste’s legs. 

He knew now it was his brother humoring him when he fell each time, as it was when Auguste let him win while racing horses or sword fighting. Perhaps humoring was the wrong word, but calling it love after everything with his uncle left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was getting easier, with Damen. 

“Laurent.”

He froze, heart skipping a beat and then another at the sound of that cherished voice. He turned, slowly, his chest tight as his breaths stuck in his lungs at the sight of Auguste. Not Auguste as he’d last seen him, in his armor, splattered with blood, unmoving, but Auguste as he remembered when he let himself remember, in his riding clothes, relaxed, smiling. Happy. 

“Auguste?” he whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. 

Auguste smiled, closing the distance between them. “Hey, little brother.”

Laurent let Auguste’s arms wrap around him, collapsing into his chest, breathing in the unique scent like cinnamon and sandalwood that always seemed to permeate his skin. He pressed his face into Auguste’s shoulder; even at twenty-two, he’d never caught up to Auguste’s height. “You’re not real,” he whispered, even as he curled his fingers in Auguste’s shirt. “This is just a dream.”

Auguste’s laugh was warmth and light, his arms coming around Laurent in a tight embrace. “Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it’s not real.” 

He let out a breath, lifting his head to look at his brother. There were so many things he wanted to say, to ask. He wanted to dream for days to make up for lost time, to reclaim all the moments and years stolen from them, but he knew it couldn’t last. It would be enough, just to be able to say goodbye.

Auguste smiled, looking Laurent over, flicking blond hair out of Laurent’s eyes. “I’m proud of you. ...Damianos is good for you.” 

Laurent flushed, pressing his face into Auguste’s shoulder again, feeling the rumble of laughter in his chest. “It should have been you,” he whispered, trying and failing to stifle the soft whimper as Auguste’s arms tightened around him. 

“With Damianos?” Auguste asked, laughing at Laurent’s indignant twitching. 

He closed his eyes as Auguste stroked his hair. And with that simple gesture he was ten years old again, when he’d always fallen asleep to Auguste reading to him and the soothing rhythm of fingers stroking his hair. “Ruling,” he finally answered.

“You’re a good king.” Auguste mussed Laurent’s hair. “Uniting the kingdoms... It’s what I wanted, though could never figure how to make it work. Had I known all it would take was a marriage...”

Laurent twitched again at the teasing, heat creeping up his neck as he punched Auguste’s stomach without any force. 

Auguste grunted, poking Laurent’s ribs right where he was ticklish, laughing as Laurent squirmed away. “I’m surprised Damianos hasn’t discovered that yet. Maybe I’ll visit his dreams next.”

“Don’t you dare.” The last thing he needed was Damen getting  _ ideas.  _

“Alright.” Auguste’s smile softened. “So long as you’re happy.”

Laurent grumbled as he looked away, though he couldn’t deny that he  _ was  _ happy. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe. Like he could risk focusing on something other than the hundred possible outcomes of every choice he made, following the ripples of their effects until he was prepared for everything. “Yes,” he murmured, because that had been a question in essence.

He glanced up as the sky brightened, chest tight as he felt their time together coming to an end. Again. “Auguste-”

Auguste stepped closer, resting his hands on Laurent’s shoulders and kissing his cheeks. “Take care of yourself, little brother.”

Laurent sucked in a breath, gripping Auguste’s wrists, unable to respond with anything but a nod.    


He woke before Auguste fully vanished, swallowing down the wordless emotions in his throat and sucking in a deep breath. A sense of calm and peace settled over him and he closed his eyes a moment, relishing the sensation. 

Damen’s breathing was quiet and steady beside him, interrupted on occasion by a soft snore. A strong arm draped over Laurent, low on his stomach, warm and solid and reassuring. 

He trailed his fingers over Damen’s arm, tracing along the edge of the golden cuff before sliding up to his elbow and shoulder, shifting with the movement and nudging his way into Damen’s chest. 

Damen stirred enough to let him between himself and the sheets, nuzzling into Laurent’s hair with a sleepy hum and winding arm and leg tighter around him. “Morning,” he rumbled, his nose finding Laurent’s ear. 

“Morning.” Laurent squirmed as Damen’s lips made their way to his neck, breath hitching at the gentle caresses. He let out a soft huff when they slowed and a snore signaled Damen had fallen back asleep. He curled his fingers around Damen’s arm, shifting to put his back to Damen’s chest and settling back in for a bit more sleep himself. 

A smile touched his lips as warm breath ghosted through his hair and over the back of his neck, contentment filling his chest. As he drifted back to sleep, he thought he could feel Auguste’s presence again, wrapping around the both of them like a warm blanket. 

_ Goodbye, Auguste.  _


End file.
